Dmitri cracked open the door and glanced up and down the hallway. He didn't see any staff members, so he marched back to the emergency staircase and sprinted up the stairs.
Luckily, he played soccer once in a while with some friends on the local university team in Tampa, so he was in decent cardio shape.
This was just like his uncle used to make him do, running up the bleachers at the soccer stadium in Saratov. Over and over.
“A man must have endurance above all else. Pain is just a state of mind,” Vladimir had often said.
As he ran one flight after another, Dmitri's lungs gasped for air and his massive thighs burned until they were numb, but his rage burned even hotter.
He paused when he reached the twentieth floor, the top of Red Square, then stepped into the empty corridor.
He was glad his uncle had never installed security cameras in that old hotel. There’d been too many shady activities going on there to take the chance of recording anything, even in public areas. And nobody but a fool would have tried to rob a place owned by Vladimir Veselov, so that had never been a concern.
Dmitri strolled across the deck toward the penthouse. Without breaking stride, he kicked in the door with one mighty blast of his foot.
He was in the foyer now, but Halim's bedroom door was open, straight ahead of Dmitri, across the living room. He saw Halim jerk upright in bed, a purple silk robe hanging over his shoulders and opened at the chest.
Halim looked like a rabbit who just saw a wolf so close he didn't know if he should run or play dead. His eyes darted to the side and back, never blinking. He began to slide his hand under the blanket toward his nightstand.
"Don't even try it," Dmitri growled as he strutted into the room and flashed the gun that was bulging out of his waistband.
"Dmitri, my boy, what a surprise to see you."
Dmitri replied only with a grimace. He noticed the two of them were not alone. Long strands of lush black hair were sticking out from beneath the top of the comforter, and a slender form was buried beneath it.
His stomach twisted and his throat tightened as a flurry of wretched thoughts tore through his head:
Sonya? Has he raped her? Killed her?
He grabbed the covers and ripped them back.
"That's rude of you," Halim said, desperately trying to lighten the mood.
A frightened young face was staring up at him, but it wasn't Sonya's.
"Do you like her? Go ahead, take her. She's very good, but anything I have is yours. Be my guest."
Dmitri ignored Halim's obnoxious babbling. Instead, he walked over to the side of the bed where the naked girl was lying. She was frozen but trembling. He grabbed a pillow and put it over her face.
“Forget you ever saw me, or I'll cut your head off. And if I happen to see you around again, maybe I'll give you a gift or a job… a better job.”
“Okay, but please kill him,” she murmured through the pillow.
The girl rolled over, keeping the pillow against her face. Her back was streaked with bleeding cuts.
"So you like to play rough, huh, Halim? I can play rough.”
Dmitri was staring down at Halim, who had slunk back under the covers. Halim lunged for the night stand, yanked open the drawer and grabbed his gun.
"A little 22? A girl's gun? Shameful,” Dmitri said after leaping onto the bed and hopping down on the other side, right in front of Halim.
Before Halim could even cock the gun, he felt the palm of Dmitri's hand smash into the side of his head. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
"No time for napping, Halim. But I understand, I'm a bit tired too. And I get cranky when I'm tired."
Dmitri reached down and grabbed a fistful of hair at the back of Halim's head, lifting him up as if he were a mother cat picking up a kitten with her teeth by the scruff its neck. Only not so tenderly.
With his other hand, he gave Halim two slaps to the face. Nothing. He was still out cold. Dmitri picked up a chunk of ice from the champagne bucket on the nightstand. He smeared it along Halim's neck.
“Don’t get any ideas, Halim. This isn’t meant to be sensual.”
Halim awoke, startled first by the ice, then by the sight of Dmitri's terrifying gaze.
"Stay awake this time,” Dmitri said.
He smashed Halim's face straight into the wall behind the bed, and let him drop to the floor again. This time, a hard kick to the gut brought Halim back from his slumber.
"This is fun, but we don't have time to play. It's time to talk," Dmitri said as he knelt on the floor beside the groaning man.
"What do you want?" Halim mumbled with blood splattered around his mouth and two of his front teeth missing. “I don't have much cash here, but take what I have, and my jewelry.”
"You know what I want!" Dmitri yelled, furiously jumping back up to his feet.
"Did that idiot politician tell you? I thought we kept everything secret from him. But I heard he met a bad end. One of his neighbors was peeking through the blinds and noticed a tall, broad-shouldered fellow paying him a visit that night. But why'd you wait so long to come after me? And how did Thompson even know I'd be here now? Besides, you think I can save you from... all of them?”
Halim was babbling and delirious, trying to buy time until he could figure a way out of this jam, or be rescued.
He shut up when he felt Dmitri's foot slam into his abdomen again, this time right into his diaphragm, knocking the wind out of his lungs.
“I'll ask the questions. I don't need you to save me from anyone. I'm looking for Sonya. What did you do with her?"
"Sonya…? I knew you would like her, but I didn't know you'd become this attached,” Halim said, still gasping to breathe as his lungs spasmed. “All this, for a girl?”
Dmitri dropped to the floor again, now pulling out his gun and shoving the long barrel down Halim's throat, right in the gap where his front teeth had been.
"No more commentary. Talk or the next teeth you lose will be from a bullet."
Dmitri yanked the gun out of Halim's mouth.
“You have no hope. He's traveling with an undercover military escort. Special Forces.”
"Who?"
"Sheikh al Hamar.”
"Who's that? Why the hell does he have a military guard?”
"His brother is General al Hamar, dictator of Sanaar.”
“What the fuck is Sanaar?”
Halim smirked despite the blood oozing from his lips.
“It's a country in the Middle East. It's where he's from, where we're all from. One of the richest little countries in the world, brimming with oil...”
“I don't give a damn. Where is he? Tell me now, and if you lie, I will hunt down your entire family one by one. Your mother, your grandmother, I will kill every one of them.”
“I’m not a family man, but I'll tell you. I know you'll kill me anyway, before al Hamar gets the chance. And I'll be sending you straight to your own death, if you're stupid enough to go after him. Maybe that brat Sonya will die in the crossfire, if the sheikh didn't already kill her, just for fun. He's like that. Well, he might feel generous and take her home to share with his friends first.”
“Shut up! Enough of your bullshit. Tell me where,” Dmitri said while wrapping his hands around Halim's frail neck.
“They're in a hotel. Not here, a nicer place than this dump. Al Hamar doesn't trust Russians, not even Ivan. He takes his dates to the Cinq Etoiles. French-owned, they have real class there. I'm sure Sonya loves it. She was eager to start this business, but I doubt she knew just how luxurious life could be with a man of...”
Dmitri tightened his grip until Halim's mouth shut and his face turned purple. He loosened his fingers just enough to let Halim answer more questions.
“How did Sonya get mixed up in all this? Did you know about her connection to my family?”
“Oh, so you figured that out, too? Smarty pants. Yes, of course we knew she's your sister – you naughty boy! You thought it was all a coincidence?”
“Enough!” Dmitri slapped Halim across the face. “Talk.”
“Sonya’s mom overheard something she shouldn't have in your uncle's mansion. One of Ivan’s security guys was watching surveillance tape after she left - they had the whole house monitored - and noticed video of Rebecca leaning against her bedroom wall, listening, with a horrified look on her face. Ivan’s room was next to hers. She called Vlad, but he suspected he was being monitored, so he told her not to say anything on the phone. Vlad told her to meet him in New York on her way home. He was right. Ivan had given him a bugged phone. So Ivan found out Rebecca called Vlad and had men waiting for her here. She rented a car at the airport, and, well, you know what happened next. Women drivers…”
Dmitri choked Halim again. But he had to restrain himself. He needed more info. “Why involve Sonya, to get to me?”
“You? Nah, not really. You’re not so important. After they took care of Rebecca, they wanted to find out if Sonya also knew anything, before they killed her too, and if she or her mother had told anyone else. They suspected Sonya might know something because her mom had called home several times from the Veselov mansion the last night she was there, and she was the only daughter still living with her. Also, they suspected you might have secretly been in contact with your aunt and sisters.”
“We’re not related,” Dmitri said, choking Halim once more. “And how did you weasel your way into all this? Why would you know such details?”
“Ivan and I had already done business together at that point. Girls think I'm a nice guy, so he asked me to get a membership at Sonya’s gym, befriend her, give her a bugged phone, and so on. I also tried to talk to her a few times about her mom’s last days. She didn’t seem to know anything about Russia, let alone a plot to overthrow Vlad. But I fed Ivan a few false tidbits, implying Sonya might know something, just to make myself seem more useful to the man who would soon be Pakhan. Using her against you was a bonus. Then Ivan decided just to have you killed, and I got a good offer for the little slut.”
Dmitri had had enough.
He grabbed Halim by the throat with both hands and squeezed, slamming his palms down steadily toward the floor as he strangled him. Dmitri could feel Halim's trachea collapse, his hyoid bone snap, his esophagus flatten out. As the dying man gurgled up blood and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hands limply flapped and scratched at Dmitri's arms.